


Create What God Would Never Design

by your_taxidermy



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Cannibalistic Thoughts, Horror, M/M, Miles needs a hug, Vore, Vore?, hug my son, i need jesus now, mount massive needs a spring cleaning, yes we took that road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_taxidermy/pseuds/your_taxidermy
Summary: So..... Im really into Outlast.





	Create What God Would Never Design

**Author's Note:**

> So..... Im really into Outlast.

The twins stood patiently together, watching as Miles explored the Male Ward, his body visibly shaking and damp with sweat, the humidity inside the building wasn’t doing any favors for his hair. 

 

Miles’ hands were shaking with so much fear, he was breathing out whimpers into the camera as he navigated the hellish building, bloodied hospital beds on each corner and dismembered limbs resting under the metal frames. 

 

“Who should cut into his belly first?” one of the twins asked softly, their melodic voices running smoothly off their tongues. 

 

“Would you like to?” 

“With pleasure.” 

 

Miles could hear them talking to themselves and he’d be damned if he left a couple of inbred fucks cut into him. 

 

But just Miles trotted down the corridor, the twins got lost in their own sick, perverted fantasy. 

 

Miles was strapped down on the hospital bed, his plush belly exposed for their viewing pleasure, his dark brown happy-trail retaining the beads of sweat rolling down his body. Both sets of eyes were locked onto his soft, delectable body. A bloodied, rusted knife was their weapon of choice. Miles was in far too much shock to scream, the pain and suffering he went through ripped out his tongue and left him bloodied, broken, and bruised. One twin ran the knife along his chest and around each of his breasts, the dried blood mixing with the sweat, mixing so perfectly together in a salty mix of iron and fear. Miles’ stomach rolled, trying to escape the knife. It was no use, they had what they wanted, they had the perfect lamb for their slaughter. The perfect child for an altar of blood sacrifice. 

 

Miles was shivering as the sweat cooled over his flesh and the two men who stood in front of him looked like hungry, depraved animals staring down their next meal. “Cut out his tongue, just as you desired.” 

 

“Yes... “ 

 

Miles shook his head around, trying his hardest to fight the blade. His sweat dripped into his eyes and he pinched them shut before he tasted the mix of blood and dirt coating the thick pair of fingers exploring the caverns of his mouth. Miles gagged, he swore he was going to vomit just by the very taste of the old blood. 

 

It was such an easy task, cut out the wiggling muscle, avoid the teeth and you’d be oh so golden. 

 

Miles put up quite the fight, snapping at the fingers, hissing in rage and fury. 

 

“This one likes to fight,” one said with a hint of sarcasm in his deadpan voice. 

 

“Indeed he does. The meat will be tenderer.” 

 

Miles’ tongue was grabbed and the Variant adored the warm sensation and texture of his tongue, the meat would be so savory. 

 

The dull, rusted knife slid back and forth on his tongue and all his screams were drowned out by his own blood. His whole world was spinning, the hot blood dripping down into his lungs, the agony. 

 

He could barely scream, the blood was rushing out and pooling in his gaping mouth. It went down his nose as he spilled out from the confines of his mouth. 

 

His hands were coated in the warm fluid, it dried like paint on his hands and he ripped a bite off the tongue and chewed like a wild animal, blood spilling down his with a trail of drool following close behind. 

 

Miles was forced to turn his head to the side and let the blood rush out of his mouth so he didn’t have the undignified death of choking on his own blood. He was spitting out the best he could… oh god, the fucking pain.

 

“How does it taste?” 

“Perfect. Just as I had thought.” 

 

Now the other twin had the joy of cutting into Miles’ belly, the soft, spongy flesh was so tempting. He could not hide this animalistic feeling any longer, he was craving the taste of his intestines and lungs, the softness of his liver… 

 

He cut down his stomach and ripped him open with monstrous strength, Miles was forced to watch his insides become a glorious feast right before his eyes. Both twins played in his insides before grabbing his large intestine and sucking on the meat, ripping and tearing at the thick flesh, they continued to pull and pull, the seemingly never-ending line of flesh was now hanging out of his flayed stomach. They happily munched away on the flesh, blood dripping from their mouths and poor, sweet Miles. He was barely clinging to life, that poor soul, so ravaged by the very men god did not design, the devil was their creator and they were his prized show ponies. 

 

The twins looked into each other's eyes, their faces covered in blood and bile, the bitter taste of the iron coating their mouths like a sickening toxin. 

 

It was their fantasy to eat the savory flesh of Miles Upshur after they watched him for so long. 

 

“He is delicious,” one spoke. 

“Very much so,” the other said. 

 

Just as Miles ran down the hallway, he saw the twins with dazed eyes as they were stuck in their own daydreams. God only knew what they were thinking about for so long…

 

Miles slipped past their cell and hid under the bed to catch his breath, his body still unsteady. 

 

He watched as the twins walked right past the room and down the steps… 

 

Miles continued his hellish trek through Mount Massive, following the blood trails left by dear Father Martin. 


End file.
